Chapter 223

PIPER

“The grove is free… for now.”

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the sunlight beaming through the packhouse windows. It wasn’t just light; it was warm, golden… the kind that wrapped around you and made you forget that the darkness had ever existed. For weeks, the mist had clung to the territory, suffocating everything it touched. But now the sky was clear, and the air felt different, lighter.

I went out, squinting against the brightness. Already werewolves were gathering, their faces a mix of disbelief and cautious hope. Aurora stood on the ridge overlooking the territory, her silhouette framed by the rising sun. Dane was beside her, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders.

“It’s over,” he said softly, his voice carrying just enough for those nearby to hear.

Then and there, Aurora said nothing else, just stood her ground, eyes fixed on some point above the horizon, apparently waiting for something. Then she nodded, a small smile on her lips.

“For now,” she said, soft yet clear as crystal.

With purpose, the pack stirred; the dam was broken that had so long held some unseen tension at bay. The werewolves set to, repairing the packhouse and outlying homes, others sallied out into the forest, making observations about the lie of the land. Trajan took to running the younger werewolves through drills in the open field. I watched him as he corrected stances and issued advice, his voice low and even. It was a side of him I hadn’t seen before, a leader, not just a fighter.

“They look up to him,” Warrick said, coming to stand beside me.

“He’s earned it,” I said, crossing my arms to watch Trajan demonstrate some sort of defensive move.

Warrick grinned. “Still think he broods too much, though.”

I elbowed him, rolling my eyes. “And you talk too much.”

Later in the day, Aurora was out in the field with the other elders, helping them farm. Odd, I thought it looked. Her amongst them, soft laughter at the end of one of their jokes. Lighter.

“She’s smiling more,” I said to Warrick, who was still by my side, nudging him with my elbow.

“She deserves to,” he said, his voice oddly serious. “We all do.”

With the sun higher in the sky now, Eira drew closer to Aurora where she stood at the edge of the fields. I couldn’t hear what they said, but the way tension swelled then released in her shoulders told me it had weight. By the time Eira had turned to go, Aurora followed her a number of paces before embracing briefly and then was gone, her figure melting into the trees.

A little later, I again found Aurora still along the tree line, alone.

“She’s gone?” I asked as I sat down beside her.

Aurora nodded, her gaze following along the path Eira had vanished into. “She said she needed to go away. Her relation to the Forgotten… it is part of her which she cannot press aside.”

“You’re alright with this?”

She exhaled a sigh, running her hand through her hair. “I don’t know. I do think so though, it’s so infrequent, that being at peace. She is just taking her opportunity.”

And that by evening, the packhouse was just so filled with the kind of warmth I did not experience for what has seemed like eternity… werewolves sharing food and tales, quiet laughs. This wasn’t a time to rejoice, not quite yet.

Aurora sat near the hearth, her features dancing in the flicker of the flames. Dane sat beside her, his hand on hers. The two were so easy with each other; their silence a testimony to their compatibility. Warrick and I sat opposite them and our banter served to fill the pauses.

“I told you the traps would work,” Warrick said smugly as he fell back in his chair.

“They only worked because I fixed your sloppy placement,” I returned, smirking.

Aurora chuckled and shook her head. “You two will never change.”

Night wore on until one by one the pack retired to bed, to rooms or quiet nooks and corners within the packhouse. Aurora and Dane went out, and I fell a few feet behind.

They stopped under the starry night sky and sat down almost against each other as the soft evening breeze whistled among the leaves of trees. They were silent for several seconds; both lay looking up with keen concentration until Aurora leaned her head against Dane’s shoulder.

“I think finally we can start breathing,” her voice barely above a whisper.

Dane said nothing for a time, but I did notice how his hand had tightened over hers. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I think we can.”

I hung back at the edge of the clearing, giving them some time to their moment. I looked out across the horizon where the blackness of the forest met the sky. And for the first time, the weight felt lifted, and we could finally start rebuilding, not just the packhouse or the land but ourselves.

But in that instant, as I turned to head inside, something fluttered in my vision. A weak flash of green light, quick enough that I almost didn’t catch it, pulsed across the horizon before dying into the darkness.

I froze; my breath was caught in my throat. That faint green glow on the horizon was gone now, swallowed up by the darkness, but the sense of unease it left with me coiled tightly in my chest.

I swung back to Aurora and Dane. Huddled together, heads turned to each other, their quiet conversation a gentle murmur in the night air. They seemed so confident, so convinced the war was already won.

But that light… it was wrong.

I ran back to the forest, peering hard into the darkness for any sign of life. The trees were still; their branches danced in gentle gestures in the breeze. There was no sound, no churning mist, just a soft rustling of leaves.

“It’s nothing,” I whispered to myself, trying to shake it off. “It’s over.”

But this sense in the pit of my stomach, in the weight upon my instincts, felt and knew that something was out there watching and waiting.

I took one cautious step toward the tree line, my hands curling into fists. My wolf stirred within me, her presence rising to the surface and sharpening my senses. The night suddenly felt too quiet, as if the forest was holding its breath.

“Piper?”

I spun, finding Warrick a couple of steps behind. He furrowed his brow, his eyes clouded with concern.

“What are you doing out here?” he whispered, his voice low.

“Nothing,” I lied as I turned to face the horizon. “I thought I saw something.”

Warrick’s gaze followed mine to scrutiny by scanning over the treetops.

“Some… something like what?”

I stuttered, my voice barely above a whisper. “A light. Green. It was quick, just… there and gone.”

His jaw clenched, his playful edge replaced by that serious edge he only wore when things got dangerous. “And you were going to investigate alone?”

“I wasn’t…”

“Piper,” he interrupted, his tone sharp but not unkind. “If something’s out there, you’re not going alone. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

I sighed, knowing he was right. My wolf settled slightly, her tension easing as Warrick stepped closer.

“Let’s go back inside,” he said, his hand brushing against my shoulder. “If there’s something to worry about, we’ll figure it out together.”